#i am sick of having her garbage in my home

[naomiknight-17]

So hubby and I used to be big Potterheads. We have the whole original series and the guide to magical beasts or whatever

They're just sitting on my shelf and I feel uncomfortable whenever I look at them. I want them gone

But what do I do with them? Throw them away? Donate them? That feels wrong, I don't want to spread her shit. But then, if someone got them second hand they wouldn't be giving her more money? But it would still be spreading her garbage. Should I sell them on eBay to some asshole collector for an inflated price? That doesn't feel good either

Should I just fucking burn them

Maybe we'll just throw them in the garage until I can make a decision, I don't know. I just don't want them on my shelf any more

[tkingfisher]

I have had a WEEK.

First Hound got into some chocolate. Ok, this happens to dogs all the time, it’s not baking chocolate, and I know perfectly well that it is not INSTADEATH. Online calculators by weight are like “Yeah, that’s nothin’.” This dog has eaten rotten toads, hardback books, cigarettes…she is a canine garbage disposal. She has also never been sick a day in her life.

Then she starts eating grass. Except Hound does not know what grass is, so she is just in the garden tearing off Random Leaves. I end up chasing her around going “That’s an elm! That’s sticky germander! That’s a rare Himalayan salvia! What are you DOING?!”

Obviously this happens at one AM. Because of course it does.

Then finally she makes a noise like a murloc having an orgasm and all the plants come back up.

Fine, I think. That’s that. Nature takes its course.

Which just proves that I am, in fact, staggeringly naive. The next morning, Hound is breathing shallowly and lethargic. We drive her to the vet school ER an hour away. We explain about the plants and the chocolate and the murloc noises to a nice young vet with a manbun who looks about fifteen years old. They take Hound back, and discover Hound is having severe arrhythmia. Which is a chocolate toxicity symptom. Except we all agree that the quantity she got hold of absolute should not have done that, but hey, maybe she has developed an unexpected sensitivity. They keep her overnight. I leave a large deposit on my credit card. We drive an hour home.

The next day I come pick her up. A nice vet who actually looks old enough to drink gives me a list of symptoms to watch out for, including extreme lethargy. They give me back some of the deposit. Hound comes home.

The next morning, she is extremely lethargic and furthermore, Not Eating.

In a hound, loss of appetite generally happens several hours after all clinical signs of life are extinguished. I drive her an hour to the ER. A nice vet who appears twelve says her heart is working perfectly fine, and suggests pancreatitis. Let’s do an ultrasound. Err…in a few hours, they’re kind of slammed. I go to a coffee shop and attempt to work.

The ultrasound fails because they can’t see around Hound’s stomach, which is enormously swollen. They do an X-ray. There is something weird in there. Foreign body, it looks like. Not blocking anything, just sitting there. “Foamy mass” is the term being used. It has air bubbles. Chocolate wrapper? Weird mass of leaves? (Oh god, was she eating frog eggs out of the pond again?) The vet decides to induce vomiting to get the prize out of this particular canine Kinder Egg. I sit in the waiting room and attempt to work.

An hour and a half later, the vet comes out and says, in awestruck tones, that they have given Hound two doses of their strongest emetic and she will not vomit. “This dog has an iron stomach!” she says. I explain about the toad and the cigarettes. She asks if they were at the same time. (They were not.) Hound stays overnight. I leave a second, larger deposit on my credit card. I drive an hour home.

The next day, the vet calls me, says “So I wanted to give you an update—oh crap! STAT TRIAGE! I’ll call you back!” and hangs up. Some hours later, she calls me back. No, the foamy thing is still there. Stomach is less swollen, though. They’re still hoping she passes it. By the way, did I know Hound has erhlichiosis? I did not, but at this point, nothing surprises me. Hound stays overnight again.

The next day, Hound is transferred to Internal Medicine. Her protein levels are weird, but she is not retaining fluid. (Yay?) If the weird foamy mass is not gone, they will have to perform surgery tomorrow. I leave a third, even larger deposit over the phone. Hound stays overnight again.

The next day, a new vet, of indeterminate age, but with a strong desire to make sure that I understand every single aspect of every single test begins explaining to me about blood protein levels and that they need to do a targeted ultrasound to make sure she doesn’t have a GI bleed. I am so deep in the hole at this point that I’m just like “Yeah, whatever, do it.” Hound stays overnight again.

He calls the next day to say that she has no bleed and no pancreatitis. What about the foamy mass?

What foamy mass?

The…the one that was…I saw the X-rays…?

Well, there’s nothing there now. Maybe she passed whatever it was. No blockages anywhere. They went over her innards with a fine toothed comb. She’s eating like a horse, incidentally. Would I like to take her home tomorrow?

I drive an hour. I get Hound. The vet’s working theory is an erhlichiosis flare-up brought on by chocolate shock. She gets antibiotics, anti-nausea meds, and special bland food in case her appetite decreases. I receive a tiny amount back on my deposit. We drive an hour home.

Hound, cognizant of her delicate digestive state, immediately attempts to break into the litterbox and eat cat poop. I deliver a lengthy lecture on the evils of dumpster diving. Hound gazes at me with great earnestness, then belches gently in my face. Learning happens to other people, not Hound.

The face of a canine garbage disposal who cost me more than my first car

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Okay, let's talk about Ming, and how some people are talking about him like he's an irredeemable monster. (It's okay that you don't know anyone who was emotionally neglected and you have a decent relationship with your parents, but it's not okay to pretend your experience is universal and everyone else is garbage)

I know some of you remember my loud defense of Ray from Only Friends, and here I am again, to fight for the loveability of the character who doesn't know what to do with all their big feelings.

Ming's family, from what we see, is not a warm, loving place for him to learn emotional intelligence.

May is pretty great, but there is only so much an older sibling can do when your parents are physically or emotionally unavailable.

Ming's mom had only been seen trying to control Ming's life, marry him off to a woman, and insisting he is incapable of being on his own. Not exactly mom of the year.

Ming is clearly incredibly lonely, and so, so sad.

He likes Tong, but mostly after his sister and Tong are already involved -- because it's safe to transfer feelings you don't understand to someone that those feelings cannot go anywhere with. When he starts to feel too much for Tong, he leaves the country, because he can't process those feelings, and he doesn't want to hurt his sister with his crush on her boyfriend.

He comes home, and he sees Joe first. His likeness to Tong is obviously what pulls Ming in, but it is very quickly apparent that Ming is genuinely interested in Joe, but he has no fucking Idea what to do with that interest.

And when Joe clearly likes him back? It gets worse. He lashes out and then feels bad, but mostly doesn't apologize, he just moves on, because apologies require reflection on what you've done wrong, and Ming doesn't know how to do that! We see him struggle with it multiple times!

He does not know how to deal with being wanted. With the expectation of care that comes with that. Because, ironically, Tong and May are the best example of a relationship he has to look at, and he had to tell Tong to go take care of May when she was sick.

His crush on Tong remains so deeply a part of his identity, even as it obviously fades, and it clouds everything because Tong uses Ming's affection for him against him! And Ming doesn't see that! He doesn't see Tong's flaws until after Joe's accident, and even then, I don't know that he acknowledges Tong's actions as cruelty and manipulation, or if he ignores that all under his own guilt and grief over losing Joe.

And this brings us back to Ming and Joe.

Ming didn't have a crush on Joe. He sort of accidentally fell into a situationship, but then became intensely possessive and obsessed with Joe. We see him be so unbelievably soft with Joe, in moments where he's allowing himself to be, to stumble through having feelings and carrying for other people. But there is so much holding on tight that Ming can't seem to turn off.

He holds on to Joe --both of them!-- so tightly. He sees threats to his claim on Joe everywhere, and he can't confront that idea, so he doubles down on being possessive, and he looks cuckoo-bananas.

But it really just reads to me like he doesn't know what to do with feelings! I know people --especially ND people, who needed a little extra help to learn how to person -- who had emotionally neglectful parents and didn't understand healthy attachment until years of therapy and some determined friends got involved.

I don't have the greatest track record for "healthy attachment", and lean towards codependent in a lot of my relationships.

Some of the people I love the most are "hold on tight even when it's not good, because if I let go you'll leave" people.

They are absolutely deserving of someone who loves them. They deserve a happy ending and middle, too. They deserve the chance to learn and grow and become better versions of themselves.

(and they deserve people to love and cheer for them even when they're being assholes and throwing tantrums and hurting people because they are still learning how not to do that)

AND THIS DOESN'T EVEN TOUCH ON HOW JOE ALSO MISSED A LOT OF EMOTIONAL LESSONS, BUT IT MADE HIM UNHINGED IN A TOTALLY DIFFERENT WAY THAN MING!

Idek if this is coherent, or everything that I wanted to say, but here it is, my treatise on why Ming is my baby, actually, and why I will defend him until he is either better or actively worse.

ETA: what Ming has done is obviously not okay, reasons are not excuses, but I do think he deserves a chance to learn. and to tell Joe he loves him.

[jo-harrington]

Standard Operating Procedures 1.04 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: The summer is ending, school is about to start, the seasons are changing...and so are things between you and Eddie.

Previous Part: Corrective Action

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluff, Food/Eating, Talks about the Future, Romantic Tension/Sexual Tension

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Eddie had always had a sweet tooth.

His mom swore, up and down, that her only craving had been for Zebra Cakes when she was pregnant with him.

His favorite food as a baby had been mashed peaches.

And now he was sure his body was chemically composed of more Dr. Pepper than water.

So it should have been no big surprise that he was so attracted to you.

Ahem.

So it should have been no big surprise that he would have planned a snack cake taste test extravaganza for your usual Sunday Not-a-Date Date.

You'd revealed early on that your grandparents were both "in the sugar business."

"My grandpa," you told him once as you walked through the mall window shopping on your lunch. "Worked the chocolate chip line at the Maurice Lenell bakery."

"Are those the fancy cookie tins--"

"That they sell at Christmas? Yes."

"Wayne always gets one with his holiday bonus," Eddie reminisced. "The pinwheel ones with the red sugar on the outside are my favorite."

"And my grandma worked at the Hostess factory," you continued. "She always always brought home boxes of rejects. I probably would have been too shy to make friends at school if they hadn't flocked to me for baked goods."

Because of this though, you had never fraternized with the enemy, as Eddie so dramatically put it: Little Debbie.

"And now," his gaze turned dark and mischievous as he threw open the doors to the van. "You shall feel the full power of the dark side."

He outdid himself, truly.

Piles of snack cakes from the gas station, sorted into two neat little stacks, a little notebook for scorekeeping, and a 6-pack of Mountain Dew as a palette cleanser.

“You keep saying,” he said as you settled in amongst the pillows and blankets he’d set up in the back so you’d both have a cozy spot to snack. The radio was softly playing in the background. It was nice. “That you wanted to drink the water in the mall fountains. Did you know that Mountain Dew is the closest you’re gonna get?”

You’d both run garbage late one Wednesday night and thrown coins into the fountain on your way back to your stores. And that’s when you’d revealed your deepest darkest secret.

“Because they’ll both probably kill me in the end?” You joked.

“No, because Bromine is in both.”

“Ok nerd.” You snorted.

“Not…a nerd,” he shoved you as he plopped down beside you. “But I did this project for chemistry class last year. On Mountain Dew. And how it gets that color. And it’s also how they keep the fountain water clean. Or pool water? I can’t remember exactly right now.”

“Ok nerd.”

“I’m sorry,” he clutched his hand over his heart. “My lady wanted to taste only the finest of fountain water. And I deliver her the closest thing and am openly mocked? Twice?”

You stuck your tongue out at him and slapped his shoulder, then asked what the rubric was for the taste test.

And then you snacked til you made yourselves sick and did what you always did, balanced conversation and companionable silence.

That was a new thing. The silence.

Not for the two of you, but for Eddie.

He wasn't used to silence, he was used to loud music, noises and raucous laughter and adventure--real or fantasy--with his friends, but since the two of you started hanging out, he was getting used to the silence a little more. Enjoying it. Savoring it. Looking forward to it.

The anticipation of waiting for something wonderful--thoughts or observations or confessions--coming of your mouth made him feel warm inside.

Eddie had pondered your friendship earlier in the day as you'd run in to let him know you couldn't take lunch together.

"There's this crazy long piercing line and I'm just running to get a slice of pizza and then going back up. I'm so sorry, I'll see you after work ok?"

Your energy was frantic and your words faster than lightspeed, but your eyes were filled with concern and care for him. The little hitch of your eyebrows and the extra pause you took so you made sure that he understood that you weren't ditching him you just...couldn't do lunch and didn't want to leave him hanging.

Even when everything was falling apart around you, you cared to make sure he understood.

It was nice.

And it wasn't just you. But it was nicer when it was you.

He didn't get a lot of understanding like that. Especially not in Hawkins where his last name and his appearance caused everyone's hackles to raise a little. And even the people who did want him around...well it was hit or miss if they decided to stick around.

But since working at StarCourt, things had been different. He had a boss and coworkers who liked him, inside jokes with people who worked at other stores. He had you. He wasn't Eddie The Freak Munson. He was Eddie from TapeWorld. And Eddie from TapeWorld seemed to help people warm up to Eddie Munson.

What a weird concept. People wanting him around. Coming to StarCourt and being around people who accepted him and valued him...understood him. He'd only felt that way with Hellfire...and with Corroded Coffin.

People were good and people liked him. A sweeter treat than all the Hostess in the world.

It had been a few months now; a few months of an actual job, a consistent crush friend, and everything seeming to look up for him. Give or take a few minor hiccups but...he was feeling good.

And school was starting soon, maybe this would be the year the tide turned? No more waiting for the future to finally happen for him; he was making things happen for himself.

It might finally be his year...

"So," he leaned over, into your personal space, and fished a folded piece of paper from his back pocket. "Kyle gave me this thing yesterday."

"Oh yeah?" Your eyebrows raised in curiosity as you happily munched on a sugary treat.

He'd spiraled a little bit when he'd been handed the sheet. Three little words at the top.

Schedule Change Request.

Way back at the beginning of summer, after the initial shock that he'd gotten the job at TapeWorld, he figured he was just counting his days until he was fired and that the start of the school year would have been the final nail in the coffin if he made it that far.

Instead Kyle was...asking him to stay.

"I’m probably not gonna be able to give you as many hours with school,” he sighed. “Which is a real bummer. But I’ll put you on as much as I can."

"You're not kicking me out?" Eddie asked, shocked.

"What? Are you nuts? Ed, you're like...my best guy! I need you here. Selling those guitars, getting those sales bonuses. And because you're my buddy. So make sure you put your for-sure days off on there...you know I'm gonna forget.”

He explained it all to you, which led to you cackling loudly.

"Oh my God," you laughed. "Eddie!"

"What? I know it's silly."

"No, I'm not laughing because of that," you began. "My first position at Claire's had been a summer job too and I seriously thought that I was gonna get fired once school was back in session."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. And it's a real thing because no one tells you that you're done when summer's over. You're gonna see come Christmas, Kyle will have to hire seasonal associates--and hey, ok...seriously if Gareth or Dave come asking for a job...it might seem fun...but don't--and he'll have to make sure they have end dates on their paperwork otherwise it's a whole thing."

You went on and on about helping your old manager with paperwork and you'd forgotten to put an end date as you were filling everything out. And then someone's mom came to complain at the end of the season when their kid was let go.

"And she kept screaming and screaming. And that's why I have a strict parent policy at work. Even though I'm the reason that got so fucked up; trial by fire. Jen was pissed."

Eddie reached out and unwrapped your hand from the Sno-Ball that you had crushed as you told the story. He adored it when you got so animated, but the poor little pastry was now just a mess of crumbs and frosting and marshmallow goo on your fingers and now his as he plucked the half-destroyed treat from your grasp.

And the thing was...

The thing was, Eddie wasn't...he was decidedly not smooth. He was gross. He was a gross boy. He hacked loogies and did spit handshakes with the guys all the time. He had no five second rule when it came to food dropped on the floor; it was an optical inspection and then usually straight down the gullet.

He could be romantic and seductive if he wanted to be; he could charm the...ahem...pants off some people if the need arose. And he had.

But that wasn't this.

This was a caught up in the moment of having a good time with his friend and doing what he would have done if one of his buddies crushed a snack cake. He'd be his usual gross self and expect them to groan and screech and laugh at him. Boys will be boys and all.

This was a too little too late moment of realization as he, Eddie Munson, lacking the foresight of having napkins in the van for this little snack cake taste test since he usually wiped his honey-bun-icing slick hands on his jeans after he unhinged his jaw and shoved it in on mornings when he was running late, saw no other way to clean sweet frosting off your hand except to lick it off your thumb.

The van suddenly got smaller and hotter as his tongue traveled up the pad of your finger, over the ridge of each joint and to the center of your palm. His eyes traveled up to meet yours as he flicked the sweetness off of you, and his breath hitched when he saw the way your eyes widened.

How was he supposed to deal with this? How was he supposed to handle this epic potential fuck up right here? How was he supposed to stop his brain--and maybe some other parts of him--from wanting to take the hand that gently held your wrist and pull you closer so he could kiss the sugar from your lips and not just...

Lick it off your hand.

Jesus, he was an idiot.

Caught between a rock and a hard dick.

Hard place. Fuck.

But that was the conundrum right? Because Eddie did want to kiss you; he enjoyed kissing...a lot actually, and it would be...nice if all of these dates were actual dates so that he could just kiss you and squeeze you and all of the nice things that came with...having someone who liked you back. So he didn't have to shoot Kyle a dirty look every time he teased "have a nice lunch with your girlfriend" knowing fully well that it was exactly what Eddie wanted.

He'd heard the spiel many times when Kyle had come back from his own lunch and then stood over Eddie as the younger man unpacked shipments, and told him, flat out, hands on his hips "you just need to ask her out man I'm getting sick of this."

And the guys had teased him a bunch.

And Wayne kept asking when you were coming around again.

Well this could be it.

A horrible start to asking a girl out on a date but wouldn't that be a funny story, and Eddie really did like a funny story.

This is. This is the moment.

Eddie opened his mouth to say something and so did you. You both backed down from actually saying anything. Eddie's hand tightened on your wrist and he was sure he could feel your heart beating faster. And was that you leaning a little closer to him? And did your eyes look at his mouth as he licked over the seam of his lips really quickly for courage.

He opened his mouth again...

Courage. He could do it. This was gonna be his year, and you were gonna be his girl.

...and then slammed the broken remains of the SnoBall in.

Quite literally slammed, shoved, fingers flailing as he tried to smoosh the chocolate cake and pink-coated marshmallow and remnants of frosting inside.

He let go of your wrist and then backed away from you as far as he could.

Idiot.

You let out a nervous laugh and looked down at your messy hand. You tried to use a discarded wrapper to clean yourself up when Eddie just...pulled off the flannel that he'd layered on to help wipe you off instead.

Like he probably should have done in the first place.

You didn't say anything, just smiled gently at him, like you always did. Always patient. Always forgiving of his mistakes.

What had you even been talking about before?

Oh...right.

"Note to self," he muttered around the SnoBall. "Never becoming a manager."

Your eyes crinkled a little as your smile got bigger and you grabbed onto the front of his shirt and shook him a little.

"Save yourself!"

The rest of your evening went by unremarkably.

You both got too hyped up on sweets and Mountain Dew, ran a few circles around the van in the StarCourt parking lot, headbanging and screaming, after Eddie threw on a tape he said the two of you could dance to. Then to Dairy Queen where you soaked up all the sugar with chili cheese dogs.

An otherwise normal Sunday for the two of you.

Mishap forgotten.

Nerves forgotten.

Misplaced feelings...forgotten.

For now.

---

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.05

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for stealing jewelry and a few other items from my hoarder aunt?

This was a few years ago now, I wanna say maybe 2018? My dad has two sisters, Z and K. K is married to a hoarder and has some hoarding tendencies herself so their house and particularly their garage is a mess. Not biohazard levels of mess but for sure just dusty, dirty, and stuffed with with ancient unusable garbage. K and her husband don’t have any kids, they’re both in their mid-70’s and both are in pretty poor health, so Z flew down from Florida and asked my father and I to come help clean. We agreed and came down for a day.

I have a weird relationship with my aunts. K took care of their mother until she died, and until she died my father would be at his sister’s beck and call. He would frequently abandon his own family to go help K and his mother. I don’t blame him for this, he wanted to help his sick mother, but I do blame K for using him as free labor. He built the house K is hoarding in, destroying his body in the process. Now that I’m an adult I don’t really speak to either aunt, like I had no contact with Z since Z’s second wedding in 2013. K is much closer location-wise but I don’t speak to her either because she’s just kind of off putting. The last time I spent time with her we went shopping and she kept telling me stories of her miscarriage and how annoying her husband is and pointing to someone and loudly asking “you think that’s a man or a woman?” Like I understand we are family but K and Z are as close to strangers as family can get to me. This doesn’t even cover my mom’s opinion of them and their treatment of her. Both Z and K have a history of manipulation, deception, and are both very vindictive and ignorant. She hates them both to the point of paranoia. My sister and I have a similarly low opinion of them both, but we both are more tolerable, myself especially.

So we arrive and we clean, Z and I working together to throw away a bunch of shit and my father worked on installing a new dishwasher. I stumble upon this gorgeous hanging lamp that looks like a large full moon. I text my mom about it and she flips. “That’s mine,” she says, “your father and I found that on the side of the road one night when we were first married.” So I load it into my dads car because it’s so pretty and it belongs to my parents. “Hey, you better ask if you can take that” Z says and I flat out tell her that it belongs to my mom. She shrugs and we continue to work. I find another really cool set of hanging lamps and a solid wooden lamp base carved to look like a gazelle that probably belonged to K’s husband’s parents and I took those too, with no input from Z.

These items weren’t lovingly packed and carefully stored away. They were sitting in plastic bins stuffed with dozens of boxes disintegrated plastic gloves and tools that were more rust than anything else. Towards the end of the day we discover some jewelry boxes and I take those inside to go through with K. A lot of it was junky costume jewelry but there’s some incredible pieces including a pair of 14k gold hoops that look like rams heads, a cool brass ring with an enameled signet with the Sagittarius archer, and a huge silver heart pendant. I carefully set aside the items that I would like to take home and K didn’t say anything, either because she didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Finally when we got home I showed my mom all of the cool stuff I found and she kind of scolded me, saying I should have asked to take this stuff and I brushed it off by joking that this was payment for my cleaning services. She was very happy that I rescued her moon lamp though.

I’m wearing that chunky silver heart pendant today and am thinking about it again. K doesn’t have any children so the only people who would ever inherit this junk would be either myself or Z’s kids, but Z’s daughter is no contact with Z and Z’s son lives on the other side of the country. We own the property that K lives on, pay for the taxes on it and pay for the maintenance on it all without charging K anything, so even when she and her husband die my family is going to have to clean it anyway and I can assure you I would be the only person who would actually want to sift through the garbage to find cool stuff. I feel like I saved this stuff from the landfill. I wear the jewelry I took, we have that really cool gazelle lamp displayed in our living room, and my sister said she was going to use the hanging lamps I brought home for when she has her own home. But of course I technically stole all of it and for sure will not be giving it back, even if she noticed it’s missing. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[desperate-gay]

Can you write a kyra cc sickfic about Kyra catching a stomach bug and reader + auswnt look after her, she’s at first stubborn to admit she’s ill but when she maybe throws up after eating or smth she admits defeat?

Just a request, don’t HAVE to do it. Xx

Stomach Bug

Kyra Cooney-Cross x fem!reader

You should have made her stay home. You knew she wasn’t feeling good from the middle of the night when she was kicking and pulling up the blankets constantly from her temperature rising and falling. Then, when you woke up, you noticed how pale her usual tan skin was. She insisted that she was just fine even if you didn’t believe her, but she was stubborn as always and wanted to head to practice.

After a few minutes of bickering back and forth, you eventually gave up and got ready to head to training together. When you arrived, many of your teammates picked up on how sick Kyra looked and asked if she should head back home. Once again she continued to assure that she was okay and began to warm up.

So here you are now, practicing with several mini-games while keeping a close eye across the field at your girlfriend. You notice her stumbling a little bit and pausing to take deep breaths. Tony blows the whistle and shouts it's time for sprints, worrying you that Kyra will feel even worse if she keeps up her I’m fine front.

After 3 or 4 sprints, you see the girl run off the pitch and to the nearest garbage. You jog your way over to her and rub her back as she continues to empty her stomach into the bin.

“Hey, coach-“ You begin but Tony nods his head, knowing that both of you need to leave.

“Feel better, Kyra,” Tony says as he waves you both off.

“Yeah feel better, Cooney!”

“We love you!”

“Take care!”

Kyra smiles while nodding at the team as you guide her back into the locker room with your hand on her back. Before leaving, she rinses out her mouth at the best of her ability to get the horrid taste out while you gather up each other’s stuff.

“I can carry my stuff, y’know.” Your girlfriend says, noticing you carrying both your and hers bag on your shoulders.

“I am aware, but you’re sick and I can take care of you.”

She smiles when you peck her cheek and continues to walk to the car. Her smile soon drops at the sight of you holding the keys and heading to the driver's side.

“What are you doing?”

You turn around and look at her with a confused expression, seeing her standing still in the middle of the lot. “What do you mean what am I doing? I’m driving us home.” The small frown on her face shows you exactly what is wrong. “Kyra, you’re sick! You can live with me driving you once in your lifetime.” You laugh at her nonsense and nod your head at the car, waving for her to get in.

With a huff, she finally sits in the passenger seat with a frown still plastered on her face. “Don’t get used to this.”

“I won’t, baby. Do you need a bag or anything, or do you think you’ll be fine the rest of the way?”

“I’m okay, I think it was just a one-time thing. I just need to rest in bed for some time.”

You nod your head in understanding and start to drive home. The whole time Kyra stares at the buildings passing, pressing her head against the cold glass of the window to soothe her burning skin.

Once you pull up to your destination, you keep your kit bags in the car and quickly take the brunette into the house.

“Go lay down, pick a movie, and I’ll make some soup for you, okay?” Kyra doesn’t put up much of a fight, exhausted and slightly queasy, she heads into your shared bedroom and rips off her top so she remains in her sports bra and shorts.

Luckily for the both of you, she doesn’t get sick again, but she becomes such a baby when even slightly sick.

“Baby! Where are you? I’m supposed to have my cuddles!” She shouts into the air, not even bothering to look for you.

You shake your head with a small laugh and finish up what you’re doing. She hears a door open and sees you step out of the bathroom. “I had to pee, I told you that before I got up, dummy.”

You move the blankets and get comfortable on the bed before Kyra latches onto you, nuzzling her face into your neck.

“You’re supposed to love me, not call me a dummy.” She grumbles against your skin.

“You’re such a baby when sick, but I love you anyway, even when you’re insufferable.” She lightly smacks your leg, making you giggle and kiss her warm cheek.

“I love you too.”

[heartfullofleeches]

would there be any way the staff!reader could stay overnight in the gallery safely? without being turned into an art piece so everyone doesnt have to worry about losing them? maybe this reader, somehow hired to take care of and maintain everyone in the gallery, doesn't really have anywhere to go home to...?

honestly? i'd feel very protected if i had to sleep in an art gallery full of art + director that love and cherish me. after i get used to them being alive first–

BTW i hope you are safe, happy, stress-free, are eating well and drinking lots of water! have an amazing day whether you choose to answer this or not!! :D

Well, as long as you manage to make it clear that you'll never leave them, the gallery won't have to resort to turning you into a painting. I imagine living there would be the best way to do so actually. The topic will most likely come up again as you age or if you get seriously injured, but for the time they would be content with the arrangement and (somehow) work together to make sure you're given the same care that you've given them.

-

"Is Y/n comfortable?"

The question's accompanied by light snickering as the hands at work complete their mission. You wrestle against your binds, but their softness and the persisting presence of hands pinning to the mat as well as combing through your hair makes you still. You accept defeat physically - but you're not down for the count yet.

"Scavenger, I really appreciate your effort, but I need to check on the other floors before I get some rest."

The Scavenger only laughs more, yet there's a notable difference to its tone. While clocking out for the night and tending to the rest of your duties off-shift, you were ambushed by the painting and dragged back to the storage closet you slept in. Your own bedding had already been laid out; added onto by the various blankets, foods, and other comforts they had stolen for you. The Scavenger used said blankets to swaddle you in and has been trying for the past half hour to get you to fall asleep. It hushes you with a finger to your lips.

"Shhhh. Quiet. There are new rules to follow. New rules to keep Y/n safe. Once their shift is over, it's our turn to take care of them. Might get sick otherwise."

The Scavenger runs its blackened fingers across the dark circles under your eyes to prove their point. As you prepare your rebuttal, the storage room door opens. Your stomach drops seeing who walks in.

The Lady in White. Red clings to the tails of her dress like haunts of her crimes and a knife welt in her hand. Crimson decorates the blade, but it's not blood. On further investigation, its revealed to the remaining skin of the item resting on the plate in her opposite hand. Her face scrunches up in disgust as she looks at all the processed foods around you.

"Please, stop feeding my darling garbage. I've left them in your company because I believe its for the best for us all, but I am not afraid to cut you all down if I must."

She places a plate of apple slices on the floor. "The Rose has been growing these for you. It's not much, but its food. If I had the right ingredients, I'm sure I can make a proper dish with them. Use this to buy them for me, and whatever else you may need."

She sets a wallet beside the plate. At least she tried to scrape off the blood the time. As soon as she takes her leave, another member of the gallery enters the room. Two in fact. The Painter, and a newer addition to the team, Soleil. The living clock had a habit of leaving its parts about for you to find, but seemed to be in working condition as it cocks its head at you quizzically. Its companion stares down the halls with a worried expression; shocked when they look over at you.

"Oh, dear. You're still awake, Poppy? That's no good- no good at all. I came all the way from my workshop to capture your-... I mean, check on you before the Angel stopped by to play guard."

"I told you they'd be up. They're always up at this hour no matter how often I tell them the time."

"Quiet, you overgrown alarm clock. We need to let them get their rest."

Then wh..y aren't you?

Soleil jumps at the new voice, while The Painter merely slacks their shoulders. No hope in getting that perfect picture now. The Faceless Angel stands behind the duo. They have gotten better with speech since they first lost their face. Slurred, their deep and raspy voice is much clearer now with only the smallest hiccups when they speak for long. Singing and talk to you while you winded down for the night help their progress immensely. In their hands, they hold a bright pink rose which yips in excitement the closer it gets to you. The angel puts it next to your bed and takes a seat; acting as your guardian angel for now, and as long as you will allow.

With your alarm clock, guardian, and two slightly bothersome, but still caring paintings - your eyes start to grow heavy. You don't remember when you start to dose off, or how long you actually slept, but the time on Soleil's open chest reads 4am when you're woken by a gentle shake.

"Hey, Y/n. Sorry for waking you, but I lost my house keys. Can I sleep next to you?"

You mumble a reply your coworker takes as a yes. Anri snuggles up beside you, careful not to touch you aside from placing a hand over your arm. You'd save wondering how they got their hands on a new uniform in the morning.

With the gallery's residents returned back to place, the director shuts the storage room door with a prayer of pleasant dreams. It feels so good to know that you're home.

[lil-ms-darkness]

Strawberry Syrup - Bigby Wolf x Goldilocks Reader [Part Four]

A/N: Hi everyone, I am so so so sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. I got sick right after Halloween and things got super crazy. My cousin brought home a stray kitten that I've been taking care of, had to get some kitten formula and slowly get her to eat hard food.

I hope you enjoy this chapter, though, you get some soft Bigby, grumpy Bigby, and protective Bigby all in one!

See you in part five,

Lil_Ms_Darkness

Snow White’s gaze lifts quickly as Bigby barrels through the door to the Witching Well chamber, nostrils flaring. She shoots to her feet, but before she can utter a single sound, he’s out of the Business Office and sprinting down the hallway.

Bigby dives down the stairs, five at a time and shoves the front door open, nearly slamming the door into Trusty John. He skids to a stop just outside the gate, looking left, then right, a couple continue their way away from the apartment complex, umbrella hovering over them both to keep them dry from the New York rain. But there is no sign of [Y/N]. 

He takes a deep breath, inhaling through his nose, but it’s hard to smell anything through the damp. He closes his eyes and focuses in on his nose, blocking out the drips of the rain until they become a dull thrum in the distance. He takes another deep breath- Petrichor, wet garbage, coffee from the coffee shop on the corner, mud. The wrinkles between Bigby’s thick brows deepen in frustration.

Where the hell are you?

He clenches his knuckles and takes one more, deep breath, and then, there in the distance, a brief waft of cookies and unscented lotion. His eyes snap open and he hurries down the street, following the scent. Her scent wasn’t getting farther away, she was staying still, but she still had one hell of a head start on him. If he weren’t so focused on getting to her before anyone else did, he’d enjoy the excuse to go for a run. 

When he finally rounds the corner, 45 blocks away from the Woodland Apartments, he spots her standing under a canopy, clutching her arms around herself to keep warm. A sense of relief washes over him when he spots her, his chest heaving against his white button up, skin clinging to the now damp fabric. He catches his breath as he steps closer, her head turned as she looks down the street. As if she can feel his approach, she turns her head quickly with nervous eyes, but she relaxes when she sees it’s him. 

“Oh, Sheriff, you startled me. What are you doing here?” 

“I need you to come back to the Business Office with me for further questioning.” he answers.

Her brows raise in surprise, “Again? I just left.”

“I know, but I found something. I’ll explain more when we get back.”

She reaches out from under the canopy, palm turned up as she feels for raindrops. It has stopped for the time being, 

“Let’s go before the rain starts up again, we have a ways to go.” he looks over at her and she nods, once.

As they step through the door into the Business Office, again, Snow White makes her way to Bigby, quickly. 

“Bigby,” concern is veiled enough for [Y/N] not to notice, but Bigby is well aware of it after the years they’ve worked together, “what happened? Why did you run out of here without an explanation?” Now she sounds irritated. Classic Snow.

“The body that was glamoured to look like [Y/N] was a Mundie.” Snow’s eyes widen and her hand moves to cover her mouth as Bigby continues speaking, “I have a suspect, though.” 

Hope and fire fills Snow’s gaze again, while [Y/N]’s is more silent curiosity.

"Who do you think did this?" Snow asks

"Red."

"My sister? There's no way Rose Red did this." Her eyes widen, but Bigby shakes his head. 

"No, Red Riding Hood. There was a note on the body. It was signed by Riding Hood. Or, at least, the killer wants us to think it's Riding." He heads back towards the Witching Well chamber, flanked by the two women. 

“With all due respect, Sheriff, I know Red. She’d never do something like this.” [Y/N] says, tentatively.

Bigby steps into the chamber and makes his way towards the body, plucking the small note off the ground. He holds it out to the blonde woman, and she hesitates for a moment, eyes lingering on the paper. She takes it and reads it silently, over and over again.

“Are you certain it’s her?” Snow asks, trying to gauge his expression, hoping for a moment of explanation in his eyes.

“It’s hard to say, the paper has no scent to it. And [Y/N] hasn’t seen her since we left the homelands.”

[Y/N]’s eyes finally lift from the paper, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Time changes everyone, the Riding that exists now may not be the same one you knew.”

“No, I know Red. I know her better than anyone.” 

“Then why haven’t you visited her since she took residence in Fabletown and escaped the Homelands?” He asks, voice monotone, unphased by the narrowing of the blondes eyes and Snow’s frustrated bunched brows.

“I’m not sure how that’s any of your business, or any relevance to your job, Mr. Wolf.” she says, glaring at him. 

“It’s relevant, because you’re going to be seeing her shortly.”

The blonde’s eyes widen before understanding settles in, “You want me to take you to her so you can question her?” Despite the blank stare he gave her, she knew she was correct. Even so, it doesn’t change anything, “I don’t know where she lives.”

Snow puts a comforting hand on [Y/N]’s shoulder, “It’s alright, I’ll have Bufkin grab the book we need.” she turns and walks out of the chamber. 

[Y/N] holds onto the paper and past one of Bigby’s broad shoulders, she can see brown tufts of hair, lustreless. She walks past the Sheriff, the hand holding the note falling to her side. She examines the woman’s face, somberly, before gently brushing her hair out of her face. She cups her cheek, acutely aware of Bigby’s gaze watching her like a hawk- or, wolf, rather. 

“We should inform her family.”

“You know that would jeopardize Fabletown.” Bigby’s tone is harsher than he meant it to be and she turns, looking at him.

“Her family will be wondering where she went, what happened to her, and will die without closure. The least we can do is tell them she’s passed.” she insists

“And we’d tell them, what? That the police are investigating, that we’ll keep in touch, that there will be a Mundie trial when there won’t be? Think for a minute. How much would you be putting in jeopardy?”

“But she deserves a burial.”

“If you want to bury her, go ahead, but it’s better if the family doesn’t know. At least, not yet.” 

[Y/N] clenches her fists, looking down before she heads for the main office. 

He groans and listens to the quiet for a long moment, looking at the Mundie’s face, again, before he turns and follows.

[Y/N] stops at Snow’s desk, examining the leatherbound book opened up. Snow flips through pages as Bufkin sits perched on the far end of the thick wood desk. He casts [Y/N] a friendly, drunken smile as she approaches. She flips a couple more pages before stopping. While the other residents of Fabletown were written in clean calligraphic print via magic, Red Riding Hood’s address was hand written in pen. Snow scribbles the address down on a scrap piece of paper, handing it to Bigby as he stops in front of her desk. 

Bigby takes it, and grabs the small note from earlier that [Y/N] set down on the table. “Let’s get going.” [Y/N] nods, and takes a deep breath, silently wishing she had something sweet or fresh baked to ease her anxiety. Something like…fresh waffles with blueberries and strawberry syrup.

The pair approach a lovely farmhouse and quietly walk up the steps to the porch. [Y/N] notices the vines wrapped around the white painted wood fence around the porch, then looks at the heavy brown door. She can hear her heart in her ears, and is certain her hands are shaking. She chews her lip nervously, and glances at the Sheriff. Did she hope he’d comfort her? She isn’t sure, but he only looks at her, before motioning to the door. 

At least now she’s less nervous and more irritated with him. She steps forward and gently pushes the doorbell. And then they wait. Her hands fumble with her clothing, fold against her chest, unfold and hang, then clasp behind her back. She taps her toes, awkwardly until there is a click at the door and the knob turns, opening in front of her. 

A young woman with short chocolate brown hair and matching eyes opens the door, dressed in a pair of fitted light blue jeans rolled up at the ankle and a simple red blouse. When the women lock eyes, all nervousness seems to fade from [Y/N] as Riding’s eyes light up in surprise and delight.

“Goldy!” The brunette lunges forward and throws her arms around her friend, and [Y/N] returns the embrace, tightly. 

“Red! I’ve missed you!” The blonde laughs, hollowly, misty eyed already. 

Red pulls away slightly, hands on her friends shoulders, 

“How have you been? Oh, we have so much we need to catch up on, come inside-” her eyes look over, having seen a silhouette in her peripheral vision. Her expression turns mildly sour and uncomfortable. “You brought the Sheriff to my doorstep?” Her voice is wounded, and now she steps back fully, an invisible wall rising between the friends. [Y/N]’s heart tightens, despite having expected such a reaction. 

“Red, I understand how it looks, but it’s serious, I promise.”

Red looks between them, and Bigby finally speaks up, “I need to ask you some questions.” 

“About?” 

“Two nights ago, where were you between midnight through five a.m.?” 

She examines him, eyes narrowing slightly, “Why am I being questioned?”

“Just answer-”

“A Mundie woman was murdered and glamoured to look like me.” [Y/N] interrupts and Bigby looks over at her quickly, frustration evident in his face. “I don’t believe it was you, but the Sheriff needs proof to rule you out.” 

Red looks over at Bigby, folded arms tightening against her middle, “I’m suspected of murder and *you* need proof that I didn’t do it? The irony.” she looks between the two of them before she lets out a weak sigh, turning just enough to grab the doorknob and push it open for them. Bigby doesn’t miss her avoiding turning her back on them - on him- and follows [Y/N] inside before Red follows, closing and locking the door behind her. “Take a seat on the couch.” [Y/N] carefully sits on the couch, tucking her ankles together to take up as little space as possible. Bigby remains standing and Red walks into the living room, sitting in a chair, “Where was I two nights ago after midnight? I was home in bed, on my phone, ordering some things.” 

“What things?” Bigby asks

Red lets out an annoyed hum, “Personal things.”

“Do you have proof?” Bigby presses and [Y/N] looks at him, concerned and upset at how he’s treating her friend. 

Red sighs, pulling out her phone and opening it up to a new internet tab, typing in a website and clicking on a few icons on the screen before turning the phone to show him. Lilypad centerpieces with flowers and lights, an archway made of flowers, and a red hair clip. “If you look right here, that’s the date I ordered it.”

“Hmm…there’s no time stamp, is there anyone who can confirm you were here when you ordered these?”

Red’s face pinkens a bit and she brings her phone back to herself, “Flycatcher was with me.” 

“Flycatcher?” [Y/N] asks, curiously. 

“Yeah….” Red smiles a bit to herself, but [Y/N] knows that smile. She smiles knowingly, but keeps it to herself. 

Bigby notices the notepad on the table and picks it up, examining it. It looks like a grocery list. “Going shopping?” 

“Sometime this afternoon, yes. Why?” 

“Nice handwriting.” he sets it down and walks for the door, “Time to pay Flycatcher a visit.”

“Wait,” [Y/N] says, standing from the couch, “why don’t you just call him? It might be easier than just going all over the place like this. And then…I’ll have some time to spend with Red? If she’ll have me?” she looks at her long time friend, hope glinting in her eyes. 

Before Red can respond, Bigby shakes his head, “I don’t have a phone I can use, and it’s easier to recognize a liar if I can see them. Let’s go.” he walks out. 

[Y/N] frowns and looks at Red, “Is it okay if I write my phone number on your notepad, so you have it for later?” 

Red examines her for a moment, glances towards the front door that Bigby had disappeared through, and for a moment, it looks as if she is going to refuse. [Y/N] braces herself for disappointment, but instead, Red nods, “Write it down, but I’ve been busy, so I won’t be available for calls very often.”

[Y/N]’s eyes widen and she nods, “Of course, I understand.” she quickly scribbles her phone number down on the page behind Red’s shopping list. 

“Oh, and Goldy?” 

[Y/N] looks up at her, heart racing, “Yes?”

“Don’t bring him here ever again.”

[Y/N] frowns, “I can’t promise that, I’m sorry.” she walks out, not looking at her friend, lest she see the betrayal in those muffin brown eyes and cry. 

“Is this what you do everyday?” [Y/N] asks, nestling in  the back seat of the taxi.

“Depends on what kind of case it is. Normally, I’m in my office sifting through files. Keeping everyone from killing each other does require some running around.”

“Evidently.” She stifles a yawn before she looks out the window, it has started raining again and the sky darkened into a macabre looming mass of dark gray on the trip back to the Woodland Apartments. The quick rhythm of droplets on the window soothes her as the weight in her eyelids begin to give way. She gives in and allows herself to fall asleep, safe in the Sheriff's company. 

Bigby feels a weight on his shoulder and glances over, his nose plunging into a soft sea of golden curls that smell like sunlight, gingerbread, and petrichor. He cranes his neck a bit to look down, finding [Y/N] in an uncomfortable position with her cheek squished between his shoulder and the seat. Her hair has fallen into her face, and he sighs inwardly, looking up at the driver before he carefully grabs the woman’s shoulder. He carefully rotates her body and looks at the seat. If he leans her head back, she’ll get a crick in her neck. He looks down at her again and lets out a huff through his nose, leaning her head onto his shoulder again, awkwardly. Her hair tickles his nose and he wrinkles it, fighting back a sneeze. He looks at her and tentatively hooks her hair with the back of his fingertips, tucking it behind her ear. Her lips are slightly parted and he can see a little bit of drool peaking out and dark circles under her eyes. He looks out the window again with a quiet sigh. 

“[Y/N].” 

She feels a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. Bark, grass, soil, cigarettes- She’s warm and comfortable, she curls in further. 

“[Y/N], wake up.” A heavy hand on her arm, and she opens her eyes, begrudgingly. She can see a white long sleeve, black slacks and the back of a seat. She blinks the sleep away and sits upright, realizing with a start who she’s laying on.

“I’m up, I’m up.” he rubs her eyes, trying to hide her embarrassment and follows Bigby out of the taxi. He pays the driver, but [Y/N] is already heading for the doors. She hears him catch up before Trusty John even has the chance to greet her or open the doors. She covers her mouth to hide another yawn and stops, waiting for the Sheriff to take the lead. 

He stops by the desk and asks Grimble about Flycatcher, but she’s still a thrall of sleep-wake limbo. She can hear the two men speak to each other, but it sounds more like the adults in that cartoon with the boy, the dog, and the girl with the football. She follows quietly behind the Sheriff as he makes his way through the halls. He catches Flycatcher in a hallway, finishing up his mopping job. 

She yawns again to herself and tries to pay attention to the conversation, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much good. She leans against the wall, hearing the low hum of their voices and slowly allows herself to slide down the wall until her butt hits the floor. Her chin finds her knees with swift ease and her eyes droop closed in moments. 

“We were both in bed, and she was asking my opinion on table settings. I’m not a fancy guy, but Riding is just considerate like that. I got home around nine.” Flycatcher says, his hair almost obscuring his green eyes, but he can see enough to tell he’s honest.Thinking back, he recalls Flycatcher leaving early enough that it would put him arriving at their home around 8:45 - 9. He sighs and nods, the only thanks Flycatcher can expect before he turns. 

[Y/N] sits, her back against the wall with her face in her knees and her hands tucked between the back of her thighs and her heels. Her hair hangs in coiled curtains. Bigby glances over at Flycatcher, “Any chance you got the time?”

The ginger glances down at his wrist watch, “Uh, around 10 pm.” 

Bigby scratches the back of his head, looking at [Y/N], “Right. Thanks.” He walks over and kneels beside her. He reaches out to shake her awake, but hesitates. Flycatchers footsteps disappear down the hall and Bigby looks over his shoulder. The hall is quiet, still, empty save for them. He turns his gaze to the sleeping woman again, really not wanting to wake her, again. 

He slides one arm between her lower back and the wall, using the other to pull her arms out of their alcove. She stirs and lifts her head, blinking dreamily at him. 

“Mmmm? Are you done?” 

“For now.” 

She nods and lifts her arms to rub her eyes. 

“Just…gimme a…moment…I’ll…” she falls asleep again with her eye and cheekbone in her palm. He sighs in quiet exasperation, slipping his other arm under her knees. He lifts her, quickly and easily. She’s lighter than he expected, and he carefully adjusts her, walking out of the hallway. He doesn’t bother with the elevator, scaling the stairs with ease, even with the woman asleep in his arms. He can feel her breath on his chest, her curls against his chin through his stubble, the warmth of her skin, and of course smell her scent. Her scent has become a welcome comfort, albeit a secret one. The strange familiarity and serenity makes him both uneasy and relieved. It’s a delicious, dangerous game that he’ll have to end after the murderer is captured. He has to keep up appearances. Whether she sees him as dangerous, vicious, and cruel is irrelevant. His reputation has both been a benefit and a pain, but around [Y/N], it’s as if none of his past existed. He isn’t so sure that’s a good thing. He thinks back to the scoldings, and the challenges she posed against him in her apartment. But then he remembers the muffins, the easy smiles, and the laughs. 

He makes it to his apartment door, awkwardly opens his door, carrying her through the door and quietly closes the door with his foot. He makes his way to his recliner and gently sets her down. She sinks into the worn leather, and he runs a hand through his hair, looking around as he tries to think of where he might have a spare blanket. He searches around his apartment until he finally finds a small brown throw blanket and he walks over to his recliner, gently covering her with the blanket. She inhales deeply and adjusts, her forearm moving under her neck. He rubs his eyes with one hand, walking over and sitting at the table. 

It isn’t the first all-nighter he’s pulled, it won't be the last. 

[howlingday]

Hyena!Faunus Ruby SUPERPOST

Weiss: UGH! WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!

Ruby: Me~!

Blake: Urp! Did you roll around in trash?!

Ruby: Yup~!

Yang: Uh, why?

Ruby: Because I am the leader~!

Fun Fact! Hyenas will roll around in dung and carcasses they've found. The exact reason is unknown, though one theory states that the action serves as a means of improving their status within the group.

---------------------------------------------------

Weiss: Ruby, I need you to stay away... I'm incredibly sick, and-

Ruby: (Finishing Weiss' soup) Pah! Sorry, did you say something, Weiss?

Weiss: ...I'm gonna throw up.

Fun Fact! Hyenas are immune to almost every disease, including anthrax and rabies. It is believed this was a development in their evolution to improve their role as scavengers. There have even been cases in which trash consumed by the hyenas helps improve human immunity by removing harmful pathogens and preventing them from spreading, such as anthrax and bovine tuberculosis.

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: You gonna eat that?

Yang: (Hands over steak bone) Nah, you go ahead.

Ruby: (Crunches bone)

Blake: ...Wow.

Yang: You think that's impressive? Wait 'til it comes out!

Ruby: (Mouth full of bone shards) Yeng, dun be grosh!

Fun Fact! Hyenas will eat and digest bones. This diet results in their dung not only being nearly completely white, but also rich in calcium, which is good for soil, and contain bone shards used by birds for nests.

---------------------------------------------------

Yang: Ruby Rose!

Ruby: (Gulps)

Yang: I thought you grew out of your teething phase!

Ruby: I did!

Yang: (Holding up a half-eaten rubber eraser) Then what's this?!

Ruby: ...Treat?

Yang: NO TREAT!

Fun Fact! Although there are health benefits to having hyenas around, they are still considered a pest for their tendency to chew on and eat rubber, such as from tires of airplanes. This is especially enticing to hyenas when there is dung on them. This behavior can negatively impact humans to the point plane wheels are protected with barbed wire!

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: Jaune! Jaune!

Jaune: Mm, what? (Yawns) What time is... (Looks around, Atop Beacon Tower) HOW-?!

Ruby: C'mon! C'mon! Let's play!

Fun Fact! There are reports of hyenas attacking humans, including an elderly man who was dragged from his bed over 80 miles away from his home, and when the search party found his body, his lower half was completely missing. Authorities urge residents to stay indoors at night with all openings shut.

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: (Crying)

Blake: Are you okay?

Ruby: I'm sorry, baby. I-I have to. Forgive me. (Pulls out screwdriver, Holds down Magnhild)

Yang: Yeah, she... gets like this every time she upgrades a weapon.

Ruby: (Pries open casing, Blubbering) F-F-Forgib me, zwee behbeh...

Blake: That's... uncomfortable.

Nora: No kidding.

Fun Fact! Hyenas will practice infanticide to improve their status within the group. A female will always be a member of the group, and this heirarchy is usually determined by violence. An observed hyena targeted and killed her sister's two cubs to establish herself higher in the pecking order.

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: One day, Jaune and Ren will leave, and they'll find their own harem of sexy girls to fall in love with.

Pyrrha: Uh, that's not going to happen.

Ruby: Why not?

Nora: Renny is gonna stay with me, forever and ever!

Ruby: What about Jaune?

Pyrrha: W-Well, hopefully, he can stay as our leader.

Ruby: ...DISGUSTING.

Ren: Huh?

Jaune: What do you mean?

Ruby: I am disgusted, and revolted, and even though I dedicate my life to the ways of our Huntress ancestors, THIS is the thanks I get?! (Climbs into garbage can)

Jaune: Ru-

Ruby: (Slams lid shut)

Fun Fact! Hyena males will be given a choice at adulthood, aka 2 years. If they choose to stay in the pack, they will maintain the status their mothers have achieved, though their choice of mate is severely limited by other females to prevent incest. Males who leave will have more females to choose from, though they will have to fight for their place in a heirarchy. It should be noted that the highest ranked male is still lower than the lowest ranked female.

---------------------------------------------------

Ruby: (In the pool)

Blake: (In the pool)

Ruby: ...

Blake: ...

Ruby: (Smiles)

Blake: ...Oh, that's nasty.

Fun Fact! During the dry season, hyenas will sit in any water mud puddle they can find. They will remain in this water, even while using it as a bathroom.

---------------------------------------------------

Dino Krakata Gigantia Faunus Summer

Summer: (Towering over her classmates) Hm... I see no foes...

Summer: ONLY PREY.

Fun Fact! Dino Krakata Gigantia was the megafauna ancestor of hyenas, weighing more than 800 pounds and standing more than 6 feet long. Evidence shows they too shared a powerful set of jaws for crushing and eating bones.

[p34ce0fm1nd]

lyrics that remind me of cooper and lady raven

“ i keep on tryin’ to let you go. i’m dyin’ to let you know how i’m getting on. ” — Daddy Issues, The Nighborhood

“ i am gonna follow you tonight. all the way, all the way home. i am gonna find you in the night. all the way, all the way home. ” — Pain, Boy Harsher

“ my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets. i know if i’m hauntin’ you, you must me hauntin’ me. ” — Haunting, Beyoncé

“ i’ve been dying just to feel you by my side. to know that you’re mine. ” — #1 Crush, Garbage

“ secrets i have held in my heart are harder to hide than i thought. maybe i just wanna be yours. ” — I Wanna Be Yours, Arctic Monkeys

“ from grace, she will fall. an image burning in her mind, and between her thighs. ” — Christian Woman, Type O Negative

“ maybe i need some rehab or maybe just need some sleep. i got a sick obsession, i’m seein’ it in my dreams. ” — Your Love Is My Drug, Kesha

“ i want to hold you close, soft breath, beating heart. as i whisper in your ear, i want to fucking tear you apart. ” — Tear You Apart, She Wants Revenge

“ somewhere i can escape, i’m runnin’ from myself. somewhere in between love and broken, i’m in hell. ” — Again (ft. XXXTENTACION), Noah Cyrus

[jiecomic]

Chapter 2- That’s him?

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"Perfect for what?" MK asked the Monkey King with confusion

"To be... MY SUCCESSOR!" Sun Wukong answered in the most dramatic way possible

" Uh... Are you sure you are the Monkey King? You've been cooked up in here for way too long…" MK was checking the monkey's condition as if he was sick " I think your brain went moshed up..."

At that moment Monkey King put MK on the ground with his tail "Listen Kid" Suddenly he started searching for something in the stock of garbage behind him " You fought demons- and you didn't die and you made it here!" He opened a back of dry peaches " Not anyone can lift my staff, but you did" and started eating them.

MK looked at him with even bigger confusion.

"But what about the DBK?!"

"Pff..!" Wukong laughed "You can handle it!" He said while still eating peaches on his cloud "Consider it's a trial!"

"But I-" MK looked down

With that Wukong had no other choice but to give a kid some words.

" Look, if you can lift my staff you can use it" He came to MK and put a hand on his shoulder "Just believe in yourself- even a snitch makes all the difference"

MK looked at his idol with much more relief in his eyes.

AAAND... just when Wukong was about to finish...

Chomp!

A little friend came for a visit.

" Em... Monkey King?" MK looked behind Sun Wukong "I think something is trying to eat your tail"

Wukong didn't even have to look behind him. He knew this pair of little sharp fangs and a sound of wagging tail.

"You...." He looked at Gou all pissed for ruining his moment

Gou on the other hand let go of his tail to bark, probably for him it was a hello.

In no more than 5 second Wukong had summoned his cloud, put Gou on it and gave him a ride to his home.

" IF YOUR OWNER WILL LEAVE YOU HERE AGAIN I SWEAR TO HEAVEN I'M GONNA...- he thought for a while- "LOSE HER WAGES!!"- "though I don't remember paying her anyway..." he muttered the last part to himself

After a while he remembered about MK.

"Ah right!- Sorry, can you remind me when we have finished?"

Hello I don't know if you remember but my name is Jie! In case you wonder who I am let me introduce myself...

You see, once I was a pretty powerful fox demon- Buuuuut for some reason the Jade emperor said that I'm a little bit too powerful and dangerous or something like that, anyway after that the not so good Jade emperor took away half of my power and e.t.c, I had some boring depression after that when suddenly I decided that it would be nice to start a second life!

I was doing pretty great!

Till I realised that I was not fully able to protect myself anymore... after a long, long journey I found myself a perfect place to call home, I spent hundreds years peacefully till the evil lady and her angry son said 'Let's summon the angry bull demon and destroy the city! “Hahahaha”

And I didn't like their plan since lately I too live in the city!

So, brave me asked Monkey King, my old enemy (not really an enemy though) to help me fight the evil guys! He agreed and took me in as his servant (which is really a great honour to me) just before telling me...

That instead of lifting a finger he is going to send some human boy with no experience at all, so to sum it up kids...

"I was scammed..."

"Jie, You're being delusional again" Said Monkey King after the demoness finished her monologue, it was hard to hear his words since he still didn't finish his pack of peaches "I had never deceived you, if anything you should be grateful!

After saying that, he looked at Jie's face which was wearing a suspicious expression mixed with all her complaints.

'What the heck am I supposed to be grateful for?!'- was what she wanted to say

"Think about it this way!" Wukong tried to ease the mood "You practically won't need to intervene in anything since MK will take care of it, after I'll teach him of cou-

He stopped when he noticed that Jie's face didn't fix itself but rather the opposite, now it was screaming 'What a bullshit!'

"A-anyway..." Wukong continued not so confident anymore "Can't you at least wait till you meet him?"

"I'm sure you'll change your mind once you see him! I'm telling you, this boy is a true diamond in the rough!"

"And what if he isn't?" Suddenly Jie spoke with a serious look on her face "What if he's not a diamond but just a normal stone?"

Wukong fell silent for a while but sent her a dissatisfied look to show that she's going too far, yet Jie ignored it and continued.

" Think again master, after spending thousands years with humans you should know it already but humans are wicked creatures, they tend to be greedy and unlike other species they have a changing nature"

"... You're right, but demons also tend to be evil and unlike humans- they rarely change"

This time it was Jie who became silent, she actually didn't have anything more to say so she just clenched her teeth and looked away admitting defeat. Seeing this Monkey King let out a long sigh.

"Listen, we know each other for long enough-

"One month"

"Let me finish!*ahem* Okay, since we already know each other for those long, tiring 4 weeks... Why won't you just trust my judgment for now. I believe in that kid!"

Jie calculated everything they've been saying a while ago

"Alright Master"Her voice was much calmer "When will I get the chance to meet that precious successor of yours?

BOOM!

Within a second a loud sound reached their ears

"How about now?"

Everything was turned into ruins.

Jie wasn't sure who caused more damage- DBK or this black haired boy who wielded Monkey King's stuff

She and her master were standing on the head of a robot watching the group of those new "heroes"

"Soo... what do you think?" Wukong asked as if he was waiting for an applause from the fox demoness

"Master, do you want my opinion?"Jie looked at him kindly

Monkey King didn't respond, but there were more stars shining around him, so Jie treated it as an approval.

"I think you're not in your right mind" Jie spoke without hesitation in a cold tone

"Wha-WHY?!"- Wukong was really shocked by her reaction

" Is that him?" Unlike him, Jie stayed as calm as at the beginning

" Yes"

"THAT'S HIM?!" There was this one tiny blaze of fury in her voice

"...yes?" Wukong felt that blaze on the back of his neck

" So you- ahem..!- Master, you want to tell me that your successor, the new Monkey King, is this mortal? And my peace lays in his hands?!" She pointed at a boy who was swirling the staff around him and making some 'hero' poses

The great sage for some reason started escaping the red, piercing gaze of a fox demoness. But then he remembered his position as her master.

" Well~ if you want to know, I've been keeping a close eye on him from a very long time- AND LOOK"- he started pointing at the boy,  who was going somewhere with his friends "You see what he holds in his hands- MY STUFF!"

" Wow, the chosen of a stick" Jie didn't even care about her attitude towards her master "Beware of his power demons and builders" at the last word she looked around the ruins of the city

Monkey King was at the end of his patience. The times when Jie would use sarcasm where rare, but honestly's she was acting a hell of arrogant while using them. It can be said that it was her tricky fox nature switching on.

" Just give kid some time and you'll see for yourself"

Jie didn't expect such a calm answer.

Sigh

"Your right"

"Of course!- now go, make yourself some tea, feed your... pet and-

"I need to check for myself"

"W-What?!"

With that Jie disappeared leaving poor Monkey King with tons of unanswered questions.

"I wonder if I should worry about it?"

Previous|Table of contents|Next

[gloombeauty]

I finally stopped following Marina today. I'm sick and tired of her saying nothing in defense to the innocent people who were raped, kidnapped and murdered Oct 7. She only sympathizes with Gaza and Palestine. Not a single word for the Israeli women who were brutally raped or murdered. Not a word on all the Israeli children slaughtered and burned alive. Not a single word on any of the victims of Oct 7. It's literally everyday she posts about this and not a sympathetic word for Israeli children, women and all who suffered on Oct 7. She's suppose to be a feminist. 🙄 I think I'm done posting about Marina on my page. These are her recent posts. Sexy pictures while defending one side of the war and ignoring the other. No neutrality. Loudly anti-Semitic.

I am so disappointed by a lot of people this year (who showed their true colors) but none more then Marina.

I understand people have their opinions and whatever, but when your opinion is so grossly wrong...and you insist in that grossly wrong opinion daily...like come on.

I stopped paying attention to Marina. I stopped like a month ago. Her posts on IG was a daily dose of "cease fire" , "save the poor children of Gaza", "help Palestine"...etc. without a single mention of the atrocities Israel went through. Nothing on the Israeli babies placed in ovens and tortured to death. Nothing on bringing home the hostages. Nothing on all the little girls and women who were raped then executed. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. Talk about a feminist. Yeah right.

The same thing goes with Shirley Manson. Not a single thing about what Israeli people have gone through, the horrible rapes, the hostages....all about saving Palestine and Palestinian children. What about Israeli children? Then Shirley goes on a rage when anyone brings up why she leaves out any sympathy for Israel's children.

The weapon here is children. And don't get me wrong, Palestinian children are innocent and as well as victims of Hamas and this war, but ignoring Israel and their children? What about the raped little girls and women? There were teenage girls literally raped and sodomized at that festival ground. Women too. One woman was decapitated and had her breast cut off. This was all on film. Why no sympathy for them? Or the hostages? Some of the young female hostages that were released are finally talking. Many of them were raped by their captors. Any sympathy from Marina or Shirley? No.

That's why if you noticed, Garbage's official IG has lost some followers these past few months. Shirley's the only one posting under the Garbage IG. The other guys are too old to give a shit about social media.

Marina's follower count is stuck in 1 million. It's been like that for the past 2 years. Stagnant, which tells me she doesn't get much follows.

You can smell a closeted antisemitic person just by what they post every damn day.

I remember when Lana signed that cease fire petition. That is all she did and she never promoted it on her social media. I don't agree with that petition at all, but Lana isn't badgering her followers every damn day about saving this country or that or opinionating about the war. That's why I'm still interested in her music.

Natasha Khan (Bat For Lashes) posted only one time about saving Palestinian children. That was months ago. That was her only post. She's not badgering people daily. That's why I'm still interested in her music.

I took Marina and Garbage off my music library. I have physical CD's of them I plan on giving away for FREE. Like, these two women are basically dead to me. It saddens me because I was a fan of both for years. I have thousands of posts on my Tumblr site going back to 2011. If I had the time and energy, I would delete them all.

However, I don't have to pay them any mind or support their closeted antisemitic asses anymore.

On a side note, thank God Lana is no longer friends with Marina.

Marina was the one who fled and stopped following Lana after that Culture essay Lana wrote.

What a blessing it is that Marina isn't loyal to anyone.

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Ocean View

Fandom: Superfam, Batfam, DC Comics

Summary: A pair of shoes, a fragmented memory, and a collection of newspaper clippings.

An empty box of cigarettes, a second phone, and a beach house with locked rooms.

Chapters: 8/?

Characters: Laney Kent, Jason Todd, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Chris Kent, Tim Drake

Relationship(s): JayLaney, Clois

Additional Tags: No Powers AU, No Capes AU, Secret Identity, Social Media, Romance, Angst

Chapter Eight: Vacation Time

Jason and I went on beautiful, wonderful, sexless dates for the next two weeks. He was in Metropolis with me all of fourteen days. I'd almost forgotten that I had to plan my brother's birthday party. So after he left, I scrambled, working day and night, planning and putting together decorations. I managed to finish a week before I got sick with a stomach bug.

My dad came to check on me after missing my fourth day of work. I left my spare key with him instead of my mom because I knew he'd only come by in case of an emergency. "Lane, are you in here?" Dad asked.

I dragged myself out of my bathroom and stood in the doorway. "Hi, Dad," I rasped, "I feel like garbage."

He felt my cheeks and neck with the back of his hands. "Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" Dad questioned. "I thought—."

"It's the flu. Don't get too close, okay?" I warned him. "I called in." Dad got close anyway. He never listened when I was sick. He just went straight into dad mode.

"Why aren't you in bed?" Dad asked.

"Same reason I didn't answer the door. I was throwing up... Dad, you don't have to take care of me—."

"That is the silliest sentence I've ever heard. I'm your dad. I do have to take care of you. It's physically impossible for me not to," he smiled, "Here, plant it on the couch."

I obeyed him and lay down on the couch. Dad draped a blanket over me and went to my kitchen. "Dad, there's no way you're gonna be able to get some food in me. I tried—." Dad turned around and went to my bedroom. "Dad?"

He came back with my jacket and shoes. "You're taking me to the hospital?" I asked. Dad nodded. "Dad, you don't have—." I stood up and plopped back down on the couch. "Okay, I see your point."

He handed me my phone and took me downstairs to his car. I lay back and closed my eyes. "Call your mom, okay?" Dad commanded gently. "We've been worried about you all week."

I called my mom, hoping that she'd let me go to voicemail, but she answered on the first ring. I put her on speaker. "Laney, are you alright? Where've you—?"

"I'm fine. I just have a stomach bug. Dad's taking me to the hospital against my will," I interrupted her.

"Why didn't you tell anyone you were sick?" Mom asked.

"I didn't want you guys worrying about me... Okay, I see where I messed up," I mumbled as I closed my eyes. "Mom, are you mad? Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. I'm just frustrated with you. You're in your twenties, and you live alone. You need to let us know when you're sick," Mom explained. I made a soft noise in reply. "I love you so much, and I hope that you feel better soon, but I am not angry at you."

"I love you too, Mom," I whispered, and she hung up. "Dad, are you mad at me?" He didn't answer me. "Dad?"

"I don't want to lie to you... So give me a minute, okay?" Dad replied.

"You weren't mad at me a second ago," I whispered, "Why are you mad now?"

He took a deep breath. "You're shutting us out. This is how it always starts, Lane—."

"I'm not, Dad. I swear. I swear it's not like last time. I was just sick, and I didn't want to talk to anyone. I haven't even called—."

"You don't even remember last time, Laney. That is the problem. You don't even know what you did last time that was so bad that none of us feel like we can talk to you about it," Dad replied. I grew silent.

"Dad, please tell me what I did," I whispered, "What was so bad?"

"Laney, I don't want to talk about it right now. I don't... I'm just upset because I'm concerned. Please, can you just—? Laney, you've been home for less than two months... Just know that I'm not blaming you. I just—. I want to keep you safe. I can't keep you safe if you don't talk to me," Dad explained. I nodded.

When we got to the hospital, I asked for a bag. I stepped outside and threw up. My dad came to get me. They ran a couple of tests and put me on a saline drip. My phone rang, and when I saw who it was, I chewed my lip. "You can answer it. I can make myself scarce," Dad whispered.

"Dad, you don't have to leave. I want you to stay," I whispered. I called Jason back, and he answered immediately.

"Hey, are we okay?" Jason asked.

"Yeah, we're okay. I'm sick... My dad took me to the hospital, but I'm fine," I explained.

"Well, do you want me there? I can come—."

"Oh no, you're so sweet, but I'm fine. You're back in the city?" I asked. Jason made an affirmative noise.

"Can I come and take care of you tonight?" Jason asked.

"I don't want you to get sick," I whispered, "I'll call you when I feel better if that's okay."

"Yeah, of course. I love you—. I mean—."

"Love you too," I whispered before hanging up.

Dad looked at me and smiled. "Love?" Dad whispered.

I fell asleep not too long after that, and when I woke up, the nurse took my IV out, and they discharged me. Dad took me back home and tucked me into bed. He cleaned up my apartment and slept on my couch. I woke up around noon the next day to two bowls of soup and bread. "Dad?" I mumbled. Jason came out of my kitchen, and I stretched out. "Jason, what are you doing here? I'm still sick," I groaned, "And what is with the two different soups? Wait, who let you in?"

"I called, and your dad left the door unlocked for me. I'm Baby in your contacts. I like that. How many hearts?" Jason teased. I gave him the finger, and he laughed. "And one of those is tomato soup, the other is wild rice. I just wasn't sure which one you'd like. You didn't have any oyster crackers, so I toasted you some sourdough."

I broke up the bread into small pieces and dipped them in the tomato soup. Jason was a good cook, and it felt good to have some hot food in my stomach. "Thank you," I whispered. Jason sat down next to me and kissed my cheek. I pulled away. "No, Jason, I'm sick."

"Your dad invited me to your brother's birthday on Valentine's day," Jason whispered, "I can go if you want me to."

I dropped all my pieces of bread into my tomato soup, and I spooned it into my mouth. "You don't mind my family knowing who you are?" I asked. He shook his head. He ate the wild rice soup, and we sat in silence for a while. Jason had a real tenderness to him sometimes. I reached over and ran the back of my fingers against his cheek. "I meant it."

"I know. How's your stomach?" Jason asked. I nodded.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for asking my wife make dinner?

I (30M) work a fairly physically demanding job 5 days a week. It isn't incredibly hard, but I have lots of joint and muscle issues, including sciatica, and it makes working hard, so when I get home, I often collapse into bed to rest, because it physically hurts to stand any longer.

My wife (25) has a desk job that she performs from home 3-5 days a week (she is expected to work in her office 2 days a week but sometimes it's not necessary). She also spends the majority of her free time working as a staff member for a fandom convention, including running streams at least once a week, holding meetings, or designing various posters for the projects they are always working on.

Today, after I got home from work, I laid down in bed and put on a movie. I made a note of the time, and saw it would be over around 7PM, which is roughly around when I usually make dinner, perhaps a little later than normal. This morning, we had established we would have some fish sticks, but hadn't determined a side to go with it. About 15 minutes before the movie was over, my wife walked by and complained she was hungry. I told her I would get started shortly.

Once the movie was done, I got up and went out into the living room to see what she was up to, before getting started. She whined quite loudly about how hungry she was, once again. This really annoyed me, and I tried to keep from snapping, but I know I sounded very irritated when I asked her what she wanted to have with it, and she flinched away from me (she had a rough childhood growing up around aggressive men, and although that's not the type of person I am, she was still affected by my tone).

The thing that got me was that she was watching YouTube videos herself, and had just been playing video games 20 minutes earlier. She knew what the plan for dinner was, and is an adult woman, so if she was hungry, I don't understand why she didn't start making it herself.

Despite having the more physically taxing job, I am also the one who makes dinner almost every single night. I do the dishes, which is something I hate doing, so they tend to pile up and then make it harder on me, I take out the trash by myself almost all the time, I have to clean the cat box by myself because doing it makes her sick, so I'm not sure why I can't have a break, and she can cook dinner in the air fryer this time.

I also know that she feels bad for leaving the majority of the work for me, but we both struggle with severe depression. It's just that I am the one who ends up giving in because we can't go without dishes, or food, or tossed out scraps rotting in the garbage, so I end up having to do it all.

So, is asking her to cook the fish sticks too much?

What are these acronyms?

[neoyongz]

no body, no crime 🩸 | alex turner

you aren’t letting up until you dig into the reason alex cheated on your friend.

warnings: this is fully based in no body, no crime by taylor swift & haim, the fic is centered around alex but there’s plenty of louise mentions since a part of the plot revolves around her, no smut, no fluff, criminal theme & plot, death

words count: 2.4k

disclaimer: english is not my first language so, in advantage, i apologize for grammar mistakes 🤭

“Louise! here!” you said as you saw your friend enter by the restaurant’s door. Louise was your best friend, you two met some years ago at work but even after you both left the company, you kept in contact with her.

“There you are! How are you?” Louise hugged you as her pearly-white smile showed up between her lips.

“Pretty good, no complaints. How ‘bout you? Have a seat, please” After the hug, she took her seat in front of you right before the waiter came to serve the drinks. “I already ordered, don’t worry” It was always the same menu for the both of you: pasta and a glass of wine for each.

“Oh, many things happened” You both thanked the waiter and he left. “Remember what I told you about Alex? That he started coming home very late and acting very weird?” You nodded and took a sip of your wine. “Well, today I checked our joint account and he sent some very expensive jewelry. Woman jewelry” She sighed. “Not mine”

You gasped and opened your eyes like big plates. “Wait a minute. It could be… his mom’s? maybe?” Louise took a sip of her wine and took her phone out of her pocket.

“Nah, her mom hasn’t left any jewelry for him as far as I know. I guess I should start, you know… coming to terms with this situation. Since the merlot incident, he left a bottle in his car which neither of us bought and he also had the taste of it, I've been watching him very closely, and he’s definitely hiding shit” Louise never cursed but she was really angry at her husband. For her, it felt like throwing 3 years of marriage to the garbage.

“That ain’t my merlot on his mouth, that ain’t my jewelry on our joint account…”

“I’m so sorry about that… Are you planning on divorcing? I could help you with that, my sister’s a lawyer” You took her hand and looked at her with a sad expression. You knew Alex very well, enough to know that he wasn’t like that. He would never cheat on anyone, say less about someone like Verneuil. He loved her with her whole heart, how did this happen?

“Yes, but I know this is nothing more than suspicions and there’s no proof that he actually… cheated” That last word hitted Louise on her chest like a bullet to her heart. “I know about your sister though, no need to worry, I’ll call her if I need to” Her phone vibrated. The screen showed a message from Alex; are u coming home babe?

Louise didn’t even think about replying, she was sick of thinking about Alex. The man that had enough balls to cheat on her and call her “babe” every fucking night. She had so much remorse, but nothing could be proven yet.

“For now, I just think he did it but there’s no way to prove it” Louise turned off her phone and looked at you, searching for any excuse to change the way of the talk as she felt her eyes tearing up.

“I think he did it but I just can’t prove it…”

[ . . . ]

You opened the front door and took your bag and car keys. It was a sunny Thursday at 9 am, you were just about to go to work at your dad’s house to clean it and take care of him. You were unemployed but weren’t looking for a job anyway, you made your way to survive with your savings and the thing you were most looking for was a time to relax alone and maybe go on a vacation.

You entered your car and right after switching it on, you started driving. It was common routine to pass Louise’s and Alex’s house as both houses were very close, only 2 blocks away. You saw Alex carrying a big black bag with some tools, not his regular work tools and getting in his car too, an old fashioned red Ford Capri which was actually very dirty after the couple went on a trip to the desert less than a week ago.

Well, the bottom of the car was quite dirty but the tires weren’t: were they new? You drove slowly when you passed by his side to wave at him, and so he did. Actually, you were looking at his car’s brand new tires. It wasn’t too weird at all because it isn’t like no one gets new tires, but his old ones didn’t seem damaged at all… or maybe you were in your head a little too much trying to help getting proofs for Louise.

Once you passed their house’s block, you kept on driving while listening to the radio. Well, you couldn’t say you weren't mad at Alex for what Louise supposed he did, he claimed to be extremely loyal to her and the whole relationship was very good for both of them, they seemed really happy with each other. So, what was the reason behind him cheating? The whole situation was very blurry, and if you were already feeling that much remorse for Alex, you couldn’t imagine how heartbroken Louise would be feeling as you were thinking about them.

Thinking about the situation helped the time to go faster than usual and before you could even realize, you were already parking at your dad’s house. Driving there was a muscle memory thing for you to do. Once you left your car, you went inside the house and found your dad watching his old TV, as usual.

“Darling” He said with a smile and got up to greet you.

“Hi, have you been feeling well?” You left your bag on the sofa and approached him. “Did you take your meds?” He was sick and not able to go to work, so taking care of him was important for you right now.

“Yes, don’t worry. Want some coffee?” You said no before looking at the TV, it’s sound became a little loud as the news channel announced something important, or it seemed like so.

“Nah, I had breakfast. Thanks. Let me clean this for you” You took your dad’s cup, he had breakfast not a while ago. You carried the cup and the little plate he used for his biscuits to the kitchen while keeping your ears fixed on the TV.

“We are live from your local News Channel sadly reporting that a 34 years old blonde and short haired, slim and tall girl in Sheffield named Louise Verneuil went missing Wednesday’s morning. We have her husband on the line giving the first clues, can you hear us?”

“He reports his missing wife and I noticed when I passed his house his truck has got some brand new tires…”

The plate and the cup fell off your hands as soon as you heard Louise’s name. You were frightened. Your face was pale, your whole body started shaking and you walked to the TV.

“What?…” You whispered. Your dad looked at you, concerned.

“Is everything okay?” He got close to you and hugged you as soon as he noticed your eyes getting wet and filled with tears.

“Dad… it’s Louise” You whispered and bursted out crying while hiding in your dad’s chest, hearing Alex’s voice on the TV.

“I don’t know what happened, she left for work yesterday’s morning but hasn’t come back since and her phone is off. Her phone is always on, she is not getting the calls either… I’m scared, we’ve been married for years and I don’t know what could’ve happened to her”

You clenched your teeth as you heard his sayings, there was something off in his tone. His voice didn’t connect to his “scared” feeling. There was something wrong and you knew it.

[ . . . ]

You’ve been watching Alex very closely. You recently noticed a new woman coming to his house and your blood has been boiling since. It was true. He was cheating on Louise, but still no news about her. It’s been about a week since her going missing and your heart has been aching more than ever, you knew Louise wouldn’t do something like that, and that someone made her do it or even worse. Someone could have hurted her or something like that. But no news about that, only a few signs you saw Louise’s mom putting up on the street.

On the other side of the street, a few blocks away, Alex was setting himself to go to bed, calm as he has never been before. After having dinner with his former mistress, the woman he cheated on Louise with.

“Al, I just know you’re hiding something. Tell me right now” The woman followed him around the house.

“I have nothing to hide” He said, opening the closet. “Just stop asking, I don’t fucking know anything about Louise. Stop bringing her up”

“You act like you haven't been married to her for 3 years! You don’t even look sad�� She screamed, even if she knew she was in the wrong position to be reclaiming Alex’s sadness towards Louise, it was impossible to not feel frightened by the fact that he didn’t shed a single tear in a week after her wife went missing.

“Let me cope with it alone. I don’t like showing off my emotions” His stupid excuse ended up convincing the woman. “Leave me alone” She sighed and left the room, going towards Louise’s former bed just to watch her own things all over the bed. Her heart ached at the thought of sleeping in that woman’s bed, and felt extremely guilty.

“And his mistress moved in, sleeps in Este’s bed and everything…”

[ . . . ]

You put on your latex gloves as you start to clean up the table, making sure to get rid of every little thing that would look off-putting. You were very meticulous with this cleaning, it was a very special case. You mopped the floor and once you finished, you considered it was enough, so you took the big and heavy bag that had been waiting for you at the backdoor for around an hour and opened the wood door.

You rushed through the backyard and threw the bag on your car’s backseat. You pulled the zipper all the way up and got on the driver’s seat, before slamming the pedal and heading to the river you visited last night. You were very calm even if your actions felt rushed: you just wanted the situation to end and just get over it.

You took the highway and drove for around 45 minutes. It was late at night and the stars were sparkling white, shining all around the dark blue sky above your head. The jazz music on the radio helped you relax even more, breathing slowly and even smiling while getting out of the highway to take a dirt road, heading to the entrance of the river. Once you arrived, you knew no one was there, so you took the bag out of the backseat and threw it to the boat you set up last night, and went even further on the river. It was loud as the water slammed your boat and the rocks around. After a few minutes getting deep into the river, you decided it was about time. You opened the zipper and looked at what you had in there for a few seconds. You doubted a little bit, but there was no coming back after this. After coming to terms with your own mind, you took the bag and threw it to the water. You watched the bag disappear before your eyes, feeling a bit of remorse. But never regretted it.

“Good thing, my daddy made me get a boating license when I was fifteen…”

[ . . . ]

The cameras followed Louise’s sister when she got out of the court, the reporters shoving their microphones on her face. “What happened inside? Any news about Alex? What did the mistress say? And Louise’s friend? What about her?”

“Guys, guys, stop” Louise’s sister stopped them and took a minute to breathe through the air gap the reporters left above her. “What we know so far is that the mistress was there the night Turner went missing. And Turner was the last one to ever put his sight on Louise” She sighed. “Louise’s friend has nothing to do with this case. She was with me the whole day Alex went missing”

“Good thing Este’s sister is gonna swear she was with me”

“Are you sure she was with you?” A reporter slammed her microphone into her face.

“She was with me, dude” She looked annoyed. “The mistress is just gonna get her payment for the life insurance. Really don’t know about her future in this case but all we can ask is justice for Louise”

“And good thing, the mistress took out a big life insurance policy…”

“Who is the main suspect?” The reporter didn’t seem satisfied with her answer.

“They think the mistress did it but there’s no actual proof. They both went missing but the only one found was Louise’s body, which had Alex’s DNA all over it. Pretty dumb of him if you ask me” She took a cigarette calmly, as if no one was around her. “It is clear that Turner killed Louise. But they don’t know how or why he went missing… maybe to not be held accountable” She lit the cigarette and took a puff. “Anyway, no one has found Turner, so the case will keep going for quite some time until they come up with a resolution. That’s all the news for today” She spoke now relaxed, and the reporters greeted her and left.

“They think she did it but they just can’t prove it…”

Once Louise’s sister was alone, she took her phone and called you. You were watching the whole case getting covered by the news, so even if you weren’t there, you were very updated with the info about it.

“Were you watching?” She said, and smiled as she heard your voice down the line, affirming. “It’s clear what that bitch is going for. She’s trying to get you involved in the Alex thing with a very weak argument in my opinion. But she’s not getting away with it” She took a puff from her cigarette.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, we know what’s gonna happen next. Thanks” You said and took a sip out of your coffee. “I’ll call you later, gotta go”

“Okay, no worries. Goodbye” She said and after ending the call, she put her phone in her pocket.

“She thinks I did it but she just can’t prove it…”

“As they said… no body, no crime” You whispered as you saw Alex’s picture coming up on the TV screen. “You knew that I wasn’t letting up until the day you died”

[ . . . ]

haiii !! thank u so much for reading :p remember that this fic is purely based on the song and I added a few details to make it a little more realistic. I don’t think I will be doing any other fic similar to this one even if I absolutely enjoyed writing it hehe anyways, thank u for stopping by !! love ya xx

[deusexlachina]

Wannabe Warden Part 4 (Anders, Fenris and Isabela): Make good impressions by setting half my friends on fire

In which I exploit my police connections to safely recruit fugitives so I can get strong enough to convince a Grey Warden to come out of a retirement he wasn't allowed to have in the first place.

With Other Aveline in charge of the police and in my pocket, she gives me a bag of money and looks the other way to the numerous very illegal things I am about to do, all to get the muscle needed to get into the Deep Roads and become a Grey Warden. I take the money and tell her I look forward to working with her.

I use the money to pay a visit to Xenon the Antiquarian, an apostate with eternal life but without eternal youth, so unfortunately he cannot help me in my quest. At least, he can't accompany me. In fact, he helps me tremendously. In exchange for Other Aveline's "thank you money" to fund anti-aging research so he can not be a husk, he sells me the Anderfels Cleaver, an axe that deals fire damage. I don't mean it has some bonus fire damage. I mean all of its damage is fire. That means it's not affected by armour. Conventional defences mean nothing to the Anderfels Cleaver. Best of all, mabari are immune to fire, so me and my obscenely large hurtbox can safely swing away without killing my own dog. (Nightmare Ultra mostly doesn't have friendly fire, except for allies - only your squad is safe!).

I hear my mom's family home is now a front for Tevinter slavers, so I serve them an eviction notice in the form of the Anderfels Cleaver. Slavers are not immune to fire - in fact, they take extra damage, I guess because racist people can go burn in hell. All their heavy armour just serves as a shell to cook them in. Having cleared the slavers out of the family home, I scrounge up every penny, getting over 7 gold - a 140% return on the axe. This makes the Anderfels Cleaver a sounder investment than venturing into monster-infested tunnels and hoping to find treasure instead of monsters and diseases. But I'm not in this for the treasure. I'm in this to become a Grey Warden.

I invest the new gold into Maker's Sighs, a potion that resets all a character's skill choices so you can give them good ones instead of the literal garbage they were saddled with by default. I ditch Pommel Strike to get Cleave, a balanced skill that nearly doubles your damage for ten seconds on a twenty-five second cooldown. Bethany becomes a deadly ice mage. Other Aveline gets sick of tanking for me and goes offence by jumping on the Cleave bandwagon. Varric learns how to hit things when he shoots. My squad is an efficient fighting force, armed to the teeth and with Antivan Crow-level tactics. Unfortunately for Anders, he isn't part of my squad yet, so he hasn't learned to STAY OUT OF THE WAY OF THE MAGIC AXE THAT SETS PEOPLE ON FIRE. Anders Cannot Die Here because he is animated by a demonic version of Justice, which is good because otherwise I would have burnt him to a crisp several times over.

Anders' boyfriend, Karl, was already made Tranquil, which is like a whimsical equivalent of the lobotomy. Anders' possession by Justice temporarily unlobotomizes Karl, suggesting that there may be a cure for Tranquility. However, Anders unilaterally decides that There Is No Choice But To Kill Him, and Karl agrees, because being Tranquil falls in that Thedas euthanasia threshold between a stomachache and immediate death.

After this harrowing ideal, I flirt with Anders, hoping that being a Grey Warden can be transmitted sexually. He's impressed that I'm brave enough to flirt with a demon-possessed mage who just killed his last partner.

Unfortunately, he's not impressed enough to immediately induct me into the Grey Wardens, not least because he quit being a Grey Warden after they made him give up his cat.

To be clear, you're not allowed to quit being a Grey Warden. You're so not allowed to quit that Duncan stabbed a guy to death when he backed out in the initiation. This doesn't stop Anders from quitting, just as it doesn't stop Alistair from quitting if you hire Loghain, who doesn't attempt to quit the Grey Wardens despite his being recruited at least partly out of sheer spite for previously trying to kill them all.

In any case, Salrokka! Anders is back in the game. And with a Grey Warden in the party, replacing currently-weak Varric, things are starting to go in our favour. I help Fenris, a fugitive from Tevinter who was enslaved until sometime after his master infused his skin with powerful lyrium enchantments that make him a living superweapon who is especially resistant to magic, because sensible people don't own slaves in the first place. To put it mildly, Fenris has had a hard life, so I give him some shiny dark armour like he has in Blue Wraith. It's the least I could do.

With my help, and with Guard-Captain Other Aveline pointedly looking away, Fenris storms his old master's house to try and kill him. Unfortunately, instead of metaphorical monsters, all we find is literal monsters, who are not as cathartic to skewer. Because Fenris joined my squad, he is coordinated enough to stay out of the way of the friend-slaying Anderfels Cleaver. He is KO'd anyway because there's an Arcane Horror, but I save the day.

With Fenris, my squad is even stronger. I meet Isabela, who, just as she did years ago, single-handedly defeats several armed men in a cutscene. This is a nod to how overpowered she is. Trained properly, she's extremely deadly but also difficult to hit. Just like Good Queen Morwen.

Isabela has more mods than any other companion, but in accordance with Sturgeon's Law most of them are for making her white, because they were made by the real-life equivalent of Tevinter. Fortunately, you don't mind digging for treasure through piles of literal garbage like Hawke & Friends, you can find some neat stuff for Bela. One of my personal favourite looks is a combo that makes her heavier and armoured instead of her default look with a corset and a buttflap. ("That's just silly," I say, one run after making yet another goth girl PC) I could be sly and argue it's to reflect her amazing potential as a tank, but honestly, I just think this look is rad as hell.

Isabela is challenged to a duel by another pirate, but she expects him to cheat, so she hires me to protect her. This I sort of do. She is attacked, and I do engage her attackers, but she is not safe at all because I am using the Anderfels cleaver and repeatedly set Isabela on fire, with the Anderfels Cleaver, in the Chantry. I could make some laborious joke about Isabela being hot, or the fires of hell, but this is not a blog that makes cheap jokes. This is the caviar of Dragon Age 2 Let's Plays. You and me, we're refined people, and you deserve better. We don't laugh at cheap puns. We laugh at Isabela getting hit with a flaming axe and set on fire again and again and screaming and still not thinking to move away from the fire.

Isabela is a jolly good sport about this, perhaps because she lives in a world with powerful healing magic, making full-body burns the equivalent of a sprained ankle. After discreetly leaving the mass grave with a roast pirate aroma the Chantry has become, Anders patches her up and, I assume, gives her a sympathetic "first time?" smile. Who's to say he doesn't? I'm telling this story, and I can embellish as much as I please. I see why Varric does it. It's addictive.